


Caught My Attention

by billie_vivienne, capsiclemycaptain



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2018, Dom Bucky Barnes, Explicit Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Nipple Clamps, Porn with Feelings, Rich Bucky Barnes, Riding Crops, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Sub Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-02 23:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14556186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billie_vivienne/pseuds/billie_vivienne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/capsiclemycaptain/pseuds/capsiclemycaptain
Summary: Bucky, a bored Dom, is drawn to Captain America, a man obviously suffering and quite possibly in need of what Bucky can offer.Steve might be drowning in anxiety but the rumours surrounding Bucky Barnes’ lovelife are too intriguing to ignore.Therapeutic. An outlet. As though he releases them from their burdens so they can breathe freely.He can be so prickly, so cold. But they insist behind that facade, he’s sweet, kind. Takes good care of them, afterwards. And his partners, those powerful men? Well, I see the way they orbit around him, simply desperate for his attention.Steve couldn’t help the triumphant smile; that was exactly what he’d wanted, needed, to hear.Written for Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2018!!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Collaboration for Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2018.
> 
> Inspired by [capsiclemycaptain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capsiclemycaptain/pseuds/capsiclemycaptain)'s ([brooklyn-bisexual](http://brooklyn-bisexual.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr) awesome art and beta’d by the lovely [withinmelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/pseuds/withinmelove). Thank you both!!
> 
> And thank you to the talented RBB mods, RBB is amazing and your hard work putting this together is appreciated!

Watching Captain America work the room was significantly more interesting than the man Bucky had chosen to talk with at the bar. Interesting might not be the best word, he mused. Intriguing wasn’t quite right either. Perhaps unsettling? There was clearly something off with the Captain, Bucky could tell that much from across the bustling ballroom. He’d picked up on it the first time he laid eyes on Rogers, when he’d swept into the gala and attempted to bee-line straight for the bar.

Rogers hadn’t even made it that far, barely a few steps before the society ladies had noticed him too and flittered into his path. He’d smoothed a bland smile over his face and commenced nodding politely. To Bucky’s increasing notice and amusement, Rogers had been guided around the various groups by a particularly waspish first wife. There were the snowy old men, all slaps on the backs and crystal tumblers full of scotch that may have actually been older than Rogers; the tired second wives, breathing in champagne and desperate to still seem young and fresh; the nouveau riche tech nerds, socially awkward and proud of it. Rogers tiredly nodded at all of them.

Bucky, having been born and raised a one percenter was far more skilled at avoiding the social quagmires of events like tonights.

Rogers was spending less and less time with each new crowd, gritting his teeth even more visibly, and letting his eyes glaze over faster. Bucky knew what boredom looked like, and Rogers face and body language seemed to edge closer to misery.

Miserable or not, Bucky was struggling to come to terms with just how handsome Rogers actually was. His soft blond hair, striking blue eyes, and strong jaw had Bucky itching to sidle up to him and whisper terrible things in his ear. Not to mention the obviously well-toned body even an ill-fitting suit couldn’t hide. The barely concealed strength of the man had sent a flash of heat down Bucky’s spine, leaving him shivering for a moment, wishing desperately the room would empty and he could have Rogers on his knees right then and there. 

Bucky felt the smallest twinge of guilt, the gala was raising funds for a good cause, and he noted a surprisingly popular one. Everyone in the room would likely end the evening a few hundred thousand dollars poorer (for a few moments, or however short a time it took them to it earn it back with their outrageous salaries, or like Bucky, with their always well invested inheritances). He probably shouldn’t wish them away for his own pleasure.

While Bucky’s well-known lifestyle created a shield that made him invisible to the older, more conservative socialites, it left him wide open in the empathy department. It also left him exposed to men like Barrett. One night wonders. Frequent flyers. Bucky pulled his gaze from Rogers to drink in Barrett’s fine form again. His good looks were the only reason Bucky hadn’t immediately dismissed him tonight. He was in his mid-forties and despite not working out religiously, had maintained a nice body with an appealing bulk. It was all complimented by the sharp charcoal grey suit he was wearing. A snug fit for Canali and Bucky clocked it as last season. Perhaps it had fit perfectly a few months ago, he guessed, before Barrett’s most recent face off with step-daddy dearest.

Barrett had wasted the last twenty minutes trying to impress Bucky, rambling on about his very important business development job. But Bucky wasn’t interested in that, not at this point in the evening.

What usually drew him to a person was what they didn’t want other people to know about themselves. Those nasty sickening thoughts, voiced late in the night, able to cripple the strongest person with self-doubt. Barrett, deep down, felt like a fraud. He’d been brought a seat at Wharton, graduated into a plumb position in his stepfather’s business, and when he’d attempted to strike out on his own? Make his name? He’d failed, and dragged his feet back to a demotion. Which, ironically, was a position he was excelling at. Whenever they went home together, Bucky got to tear the guy apart, make him weep, and then build him back up. Remind him of the powerful person he could be. It was a real head trip. And a massive turn on.

Unfortunately for Barrett, Rogers pulled Bucky’s attention away again. The bar was no longer the best view for the drama possibly playing out on Rogers’s face, which everyone else seemed to be oblivious to. If Bucky wanted the drama of his back? The tension of his hunched shoulders? That was about all he was going to get from his current position. And he wasn’t ready to give up spying on the man so easily.

He wanted to puzzle out where Rogers irritation was coming from, determine if it was just simply from being a showpiece to the vapidly wealthy. If that was the case then Bucky could rid himself of the growing unease he felt every time the man entered his view. But if it seemed to be coming from someplace else? Well. Bucky reasoned, he was entirely equipped to assist with that.

"So then I said to Jerry-"

"Barrett, stop talking." Bucky interrupted, ignoring Barrett’s shocked sputtering. "Someone infinitely more intriguing has captured my attention, yes while you were talking, and I'm going to leave you right here, at the bar, so I can see if they're interested in what I have to offer."

Bucky paused to give Barrett a knowing glance, smirking as the man gulped air while he no doubt replayed all that Bucky had offered him in the past.

"I want you to wait here, in case, as highly unlikely as it is, the guy isn't interested. Yes?" Bucky asked, already knowing the answer.

"Bucky, last time you didn't come back." Barrett huffed.

"I'm worth it, you know that." Bucky purred. Barrett gulped down the last of his scotch and signaled to the bartender for another.

"Fine. But I'm only waiting ten minutes." 

"You'll wait as long as I want you to. But I promise, you’re very next in line." Bucky offered before sliding away from the bar and straightening his suit. Westwoods deserved to be treated right.

Edging around the ballroom also gave Bucky a second look at the elegant design choices that had been made for this evening’s soiree. He wasn’t quite sure how a new youth program at the Kennedy Centre had inspired a Roaring ‘20s-esque theme, but it was working. The oversized chandeliers were bathing the room in a low golden glow while the strategically placed high tables were lit up by vases of flowers dotted with fairy lights. The available seating was covered in baroque fabric and the silverware beautifully engraved with swirling patterns.

While Bucky had spent most of the evening carefully eyeing the suits in the room, all very sharp, if not so daring as he preferred, the dresses and jewelry adorning the women was far more impressive. One or two risqué numbers, but the rest were stylishly graceful. Almost understated. Almost. Until the sparkling bracelets and shining diamonds embedded in the necklaces caught the eye.

Bucky spotted his mother and whipped around, narrowly avoiding slamming into a server. The woman startled but managed to keep her tray upright. Bucky gave her an apologetic smile before snatching a glass for himself.

“Sorry.” He whispered, not wanting to draw attention, knowing it would likely end in the poor woman being fired as soon as she got within hissing-volume proximity of the bar. She smiled back and nodded, avoiding eye contact. He watched her swerve neatly through the crowd and wondered briefly why the bowtie? Then he remembered his mission and ducked behind a small gathering of doddering second sons, peeking over their shoulders to refocus on Rogers.

Bucky cursed under his breath, catching some side eye. Rogers had been wheeled even further away and he had only the perfect view of his bicep. Which wasn’t a bad view. And now that Bucky had noticed her, Rogers seemed to be on a collision course with his mother. He’d likely enter her orbit in two more stops. Bucky’s pity ratcheted up another notch. Winnifred Barnes made even Bucky nervous. Considering how he often he tied people up and gave them a thorough whipping, he felt that was really saying more about her than him. 

If something didn’t divert Rogers, Bucky was actually going to have to intervene himself.

Slipping around the collection of least important family members, Bucky darted past Kamala Khan (decent for society’s latest scoops but took an hour to tell the story) and settled leaning nonchalantly against an empty table. He could take in Rogers profile without appearing in his mother's sightlines.

Rogers’ eyes had glazed over again and seemed unaware he was nodding in the direction of someone's elbow. 

Bucky was drawing up a list of possible reasons for Rogers’s mood when he felt a hand brush his own elbow. He glanced at the newcomer out of the corner of his eye and barely kept in an irritated sigh. Then he remembered he was Bucky Barnes and sighed as audibly and harshly as he could muster. 

Senator Young. He was definitely someone Bucky usually avoided. He had as much depth as a spoon and Bucky couldn't be less interested or more obvious about it if he, for the seventh time, told the man to his face, they would never be spending even a moment together outside of a very public, well-lit space. Bucky had almost fallen for Young's act the first time they met, when he'd been younger and probably a little more focused on the fun of being a Dom instead of the emotional journey than he'd care to admit. Young had buttered him up, flirted hard, and shared a fantasy scene that had got Bucky's blood hot. But he had made the fatal flaw of forgetting Bucky was a person, with feelings even, and had laughed over how he would have bragging rights when certain people saw them leaving together. It had made Bucky sick and he'd thrown his drink in Young's face before storming away.

He knew a rumor mill swirled around him, but he'd always secretly hoped it had been a mostly positive one, spreading the word that he provided more than just spanking and unattached sex. 

"Evening Bucky, how are you enjoying tonight?" Young asked, sounding as bland as his political stances. 

Keeping his eyes on Rogers, Bucky grit out a reply, swallowing down the bad taste of talking to Young. "Busy. Go away." The senator chuckled and settled his drink on the table.

"It's a party, nobody should be busy at a party. You look very handsome by the way. That's a nice suit." Young flattered. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"I know, I always look good. That's not really new information to anyone. Now, go away." Bucky gulped down a mouthful of his warming champagne. Young merely laughed off the rejection again. 

"You know, I have a suite booked at the Park Hyatt. Some of that waiting for us on ice," he nodded his head towards Bucky's half drained glass. "We could order something sweet and have a real nice time Bucky." He offered, the first hint of a smirk playing over his face, as if he could convince Bucky of anything other than how much of a creep he was.

"Or how about we don't order anything and have some fun instead. I know what you're up for, I could be easily swayed towards something a little more," he broke off to theatrically check they weren't being listened to. "Hardcore." Young finished in a whisper. 

Bucky took a long moment to drain the last of his champagne and tap into his store of dwindling patience, hoping there was an ounce left to stop him from shouting at this Level Thirty Seven cretin and drawing his mother's attention. 

“Listen to me Senator,” Bucky snapped, turning to fully face the man. Narrowing his focus and rolling his shoulders to add another inch to his height, Bucky toed around the edges of slipping into a Dom role. Anyone viewing the two of them from a distance would only be able to describe Bucky as looming.

“Just because your constituents don’t care that no means no, doesn’t mean you’re welcome to be a pushy jackass outside of your state. No, to your hotel suite. No, to your bottle service. No, to any and every kind of physical contact that could possibly occur with you. No, to you. Always.” Bucky emphasized each point leaning slightly closer into Young’s personal space. By the time he had finished they were practically breathing the same air. 

Young’s face had twisted and started turning a dark red. His fist had tightened around his glass and Bucky was sure there was a rage tremor running up his arm. All kinds of responses were visibly running through his mind, and Bucky knew it was only the quality of guests and Bucky’s own stepfather that prevented the senator from roaring out insult after insult. Bucky went for bitchy rather than a full kill shot.

“Anyway, there’s a line. And you’re not in it.”

“A line?”

“You heard me. Starts right behind Barrett Soren over by the bar. Don’t bother joining him though. If I don’t go home with him tonight, I’d rather sandpaper my face off than spend another moment with you. Have a great night, Senator Young.” Bucky spun on his heel and sailed off in triumph.

He came to a stop once he was safely half a room away and settled against a nearby wall. Scouting the room, he spotted Rogers, now one group away from his mother, surrounded by the sadly small number of loyal husbands still married to their first wives. And not just because those particular first wives had outstanding pre-nups. But maybe just a little.

There appeared in Rogers eye now a hard glint. His face stone cold. Bucky wondered what was being said, wondered if Rogers would snap right here and now and save Bucky the effort of peppering him with seemingly innocent questions until he got a similar reaction. But before Bucky even had time to blink, the glint was gone. Wiped away and replaced with a carefully neutral facade. Another moment passed when Rogers delivered what must have been an excuse and stepped, impressively fast, to his right and then ghosted away. Bucky nearly lost track of him as he slipped out onto the balcony.

Bucky took the opportunity to assess his current situation, he had zig-zagged around the room in such a fashion that Barrett was now about three feet to his left, god forbid the man turn around and see him. He’d escaped the seedy clutch of Senator Young. And was no closer to a worthwhile vantage point of Rogers than he was ten minutes ago. 

But…if he moved across the room and found a quiet spot close to the balcony doors, he should be able to view Rogers somewhat stealthily. And, Bucky suspected, catch him unaware and uninhibited if he thought outdoors offered a semblance of privacy. Bucky didn’t expect tears or a breakdown but just a moment of honest emotion that he could make sense of.

He went for it, only pausing for the briefest second to scoop up another flute of champagne. His last for the night. He had no problem with drinking, but wouldn't get drunk if he was planning on leaving with someone. It wouldn't be fair to them. He craned his neck in an awkward position and spotted Rogers.

The man was standing at the railing, clasping it tightly, tension pouring off his stiff frame. He was staring out into the night, but didn't seem to be taking in the city skyline. Shadows flickered over his face, the balcony lit by fiery braziers. The longer Bucky watched, the less sure he was of what he was seeing. It wasn't simple sadness, or annoyance, or even plain boredom-induced irritation. Whatever it was, it was making it hard for Bucky to breathe. He liked it, not that Rogers was going through something painful, but that it was complicated. That it hinted at needing more than one or two scenes to work through. This could be something long term. And just when Bucky had been starting to tire of his short relationships and one night hook ups. 

He barely had time to properly examine those thoughts when fate finally caught up with him. He started when a hand wrapped tightly around his wrist and flinched when his mother filled his view. Damn. 

"Bucky, darling, it's lovely to see you," she murmured, leaning in to peck both his cheeks. "I'm glad you decided to attend." 

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world, mother." He said pleasantly before wilting as his mother's smile widened. Whatever made Winnifred Barnes that happy usually made Bucky equal parts unhappy. 

"You're making my night, dear. Come and say hello to Ms. Wecker, she's the new artistic director for the Centre and would love to meet you." Ah, there it was. Bucky already knew who Wecker was. She'd been hard to miss in her daring red gown with a plunging neckline, plus there had been the article in the Post this morning where she'd rallied against the former director, someone his mother had helped install. 

"Let's," he said, offering his arm. After a beat Winnifred released his wrist and slipped her arm into his. He stole one last glance outside, sending a silent promise they’d meet later, before leading his mother back into the belly of the beast.

It was forty minutes of cleverly leveled barbs served back and forth at a rate any tennis player would have marveled at when Bucky’s skin started to crawl. He scoured the crowd that had grown around the still civil spectacle, checking for eyes on him but didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He turned and glanced behind his mother’s back and froze. Captain America was about six feet away, redder than a tomato and looking scandalized. His eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth twisted down at the edges. He was hunched over more than usual, and Bucky could see Kamala Khan tiptoeing to murmur in his ear. They both looked up as Kamala raised a hand and pointed in Bucky’s direction. As Roger’s eyes locked onto Bucky’s, he realized she wasn’t just pointing in his direction, she was pointing at him. Oh.

He sneered at Rogers and turned away. He knew what was happening, Kamala was breaking Roger’s 1940s brain with the few sordid stories of Bucky’s love life she was aware of. And Rogers was standing there judging him for it. And not in the way Bucky would want him to, not considering or thoughtfully, like whether he could picture how they would look together. It was the other kind of judgy.

Bucky could still feel their eyes on him, was sure he could hear Kamala’s whispers over the distance and music. He grit his teeth and excused himself. He only paused on his way out of the party to pick up Louis Benson, a bit of a vanilla choice, but Bucky didn’t quite trust himself right now not to keep his cool. And to think, he’d wasted nearly the entire night actually concerned about Rogers.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Steve slammed his fist into the punching bag, relishing in the brief second when pain flared in his knuckles, his wrist, and up his forearm.

He’d take the pain in exchange for that entirely too short second, when he was distracted from his endlessly churning thoughts.

He was cracking up and he knew it.

Not only was he cracking, he was screwing up left, right, and center too.

He slammed into the bag again, wishing it could take away his anger over the day’s events. It did but only for that second. Then frustration and a hint of shame washed over Steve again, as his mind replayed all of the day’s glaring errors.

He shook his head and took another swing, pulling it as late as possible so he didn’t split the reinforced bag. Natasha would be walking back through the gym soon and he didn’t need her seeing how much their argument was affecting him. Well. It hadn’t been much of an argument. She had made a mistake and he’d snapped at her for it. Loudly. And in front of the rest of the Strike team.

She was human, she was allowed to make mistakes, and he knew that. Even worse, he’d been trying to find ways to tell her what he thought of her for months now. That she was too hard on herself, and he knew she was held to a higher standard than the majority of agents Steve had met. He was of the opinion she more than met that standard each and every mission. There was no one else he’d rather have with him if things went south. Which they seemed to inevitability do these days. But whenever he talked to her, none of that came out. Because he was cracking, and the anger he was desperately trying to keep locked in was finding more and more ways to escape.

Steve’s breath hitched as self-doubt hit him harder than he’d hit the punching bag. He couldn’t stop screwing up, making bad calls, second guessing his team, snapping at Nat. Why was he in charge of anything? He slumped against the bag and picked at the seam, focused on inhaling and exhaling deeply.

He furiously wished he could get ahead of the mistakes, get back in control of his work, his life, and himself. But too often it felt like he was unmoored inside his mind. He spent half his time watching what was happening like a spectator. The other half of the time, when frenetic energy was driving him forward without regard, well, that was when he started screwing up.

He cringed in on himself as he heard the locker room door burst open. Fast footsteps rang throughout the gym, Natasha hustling out, heading home.

He let her leave without interruption. The entrance to the gym whooshing shut behind her. The original heavy wooden doors had been replaced with the sleek automatic sliding ones after an agent, who shall remain nameless (but was definitely Rollins, for the record), gave Steve a hell of a fright banging them shut. The kind of fright that got him sent back to the SHIELD therapist and then even worse, the SHIELD HR department. The kind of fright that was clinically a panic attack. He hadn’t had a fright since, but was starting to wonder if obsessing over it could bring one on. Just one of the fun thoughts that plagued him in the middle of the night while he was revisiting every stupid thing he’d ever done instead of sleeping peacefully. 

Calling it a day, he pushed off the only slightly mangled punching bag and headed to the locker room. He didn’t want to stick around any longer, the place would be swarming with other agents soon, winding down from their own, probably far more successful, day.

The next day was no better. Nat was ignoring him beyond confirmations or terse answers to work related questions. Steve took it out on Rumlow. Gave him an unnecessary dressing down that left them both fuming and the Strike team staring at him like he’d grown a new head.

He was becoming more and more aware of his temper slipping out of his control like that. It was all a little scary, he could admit, in the very dark depths of his mind.

He headed home early, giving the team a chance to let off some steam while he wasn’t within range.

Thursday. Oh boy. What a disaster. SHIELD’s PR department found yet another mind-numbing rich people party for Steve to attend on their behalf. He didn't even feel bad not asking which charity was involved. Not after attending hundreds of the damn events, seeing people in their expensive suits, drinking expensive alcohol, patting each other on the back for throwing what amounted to pennies to them at a problem that needed more than money.

He'd put his foot down. Refused politely. Several times. Then he'd snapped. Just like with Nat. Only this time, the poor guy had burst into tears. And now Rogers was sitting outside Fury's office, the head of PR staring daggers at him while they waited.

He got off lightly, especially considering he'd interrupted Fury to rant, at least once. He was going to the ridiculous party and, surprise, back to HR for a seminar on Appropriate Conduct in the Workplace, plus, he had to at least book an appointment with a therapist before he was allowed back in the field. 

Steve took his time heading home that night, letting the chill air rush around him as he sped his motorcycle around the city. It cleared out a few cobwebs, but he was still reeling, still feeling too loose inside his own head. He was disappointed to be pulled from the field. While their missions felt as though they had slowly been losing importance, he enjoyed the prep. Researching, planning, training. It was about the only time he felt in control before they got the greenlight. Everything after that, when it wasn't just plans on paper, that was starting to be the problem.

Ordering in, he set about filling in the 24 hours between now and the party. He already knew how tonight was going to go. Research. Into a very special project. It was tomorrow he was concerned about. He didn't like the idea of being left alone with his thoughts all day.

Nat was unlikely to materialize out of nowhere and drag him for coffee. Sam worked long hours on Fridays and understandably, wasn’t much company when he was done. Steve dismissed visiting a gallery or heading to the library. He knew he wouldn't be in the mood to appreciate either. As he settled into bed, laptop open and already showing the site he wanted to visit, a new possibility filtered into his mind. 

Kamala Khan. He'd met her at a few of the rich people parties, and had only been able to stand her after he found out about her numerous art patronages. According to her, she was supporting half the galleries in the city. A quick google search had shown it was more like a quarter. That the galleries focused on showcasing disadvantaged artists made her company somewhat more bearable than everyone else’s. Also, the gossip. She was good for it and Steve couldn’t help indulging every now and then. She certainly hadn’t disappointed when they had last spoke.

Kamala had been bursting at the seams to share a juicy new tidbit with him, made him confirm he'd never heard the name Bucky Barnes twice before she would tell him. It was coincidence, fate, the universe, whatever. Because what she told him about Bucky Barnes was exactly what he was looking for. Unfortunately, Steve's face had flushed when she whispered a highly explicit story into his ear, and then she'd pointed out the man, and when he looked a short distance away he had seen the man himself, looking pissed like he could hear every scandalous word. It was not the first impression Steve would have chosen to make, especially considering how attractive Bucky was. And that suit, Jesus. Bucky had taken his breath away, and for the first time that night, his mind had stilled. 

He sent a quick message to Kamala, checking if she was free in the afternoon. She replied an impossibly short amount of time later and everything was arranged. He spent the rest of the night scouring his favorite BDSM site. 

It turned out he needn't have worried about filling his morning. SHIELD did that for him, sending a junior agent to take him suit shopping. He'd stared hopefully at a beautiful dark blue number before he was sent to try on several black ones. He always stood out in his un-tailored glory, so he didn’t feel bothered when he broke the store assistant’s heart by choosing the first one that fit across his broad shoulders. The agent re-confirmed the event details before vanishing in a cloud of obvious relief.

Steve immediately hated the café Kamala had chosen. He had to wait to be taken to his seat (why?) and the menu listed bizarre drink combinations and no prices. An overwhelming air of ‘you’re welcome for our existence’ permeated the whole café.

Kamala had at least secured a table in a back corner, partially hidden from view by several oversized leafy plants. Steve could hear the chunky gold jewellry adorning her wrist jangling as she waved him over. 

It only took fourteen minutes before he realized the flaw in his plan for getting specific information out of Kamala. Mostly because it had been fourteen minutes and the woman had yet to stop for a breath. He zoned out as she masterfully veered from congressional funding to music education. As he struggled to regain focus he felt himself slipping further and further away, almost to the point of watching himself nodding while Kamala gestured excitedly. A knot was forming in his stomach, nerves or nausea he wasn’t sure.

It was a waitress who broke the spell, clunking glasses on the marble tabletop. He didn’t get a chance to murmur his thanks before she was gone.

“Cheers, dear.” Kamala raised her glass, waiting for Steve to follow. He smiled at her and clinked before dubiously trying a mouthful of Kiwifruit and Strawberry. Damn. It was actually tasty.

“Now, tell me what’s new with you?” Kamala asked, peering over her glass. 

“I was wondering if you’d tell me more about Bucky Barnes? You pointed him out at the…gala? Was it a gala?”

“Yes dear, good for you.” She confirmed, laughing as he ducked his eyes.

“You pointed him out at the gala and ah, mentioned his… ah.”

“Love life?” Kamala interrupted, a conspiratorial grin spreading.

Steve huffed, “Yes, his love life. I was just wondering, how true do you think that is?” Because it was one thing to hope, but another to walk up to the man and try to initiate something based on bad intel.

Kamala raised an eyebrow at him and nodded thoughtfully. Steve raised his chin and prayed he wasn’t blushing. He wasn’t going to be embarrassed about his interests.

“I know it’s true.” Kamala confirmed, tone slightly hushed. “Not only have these rumors persisted for quite some time, but I’ve had two, unrelated, sources share some details about time they’ve spent with young Bucky Barnes.” Kamala paused to look around the café, ensuring no one was even looking in their direction before she continued in a whisper.

“It’s more than just _kinky sex_ is what I heard from both people. One of them described it as therapeutic. An outlet. As though he releases them from their burdens so they can breathe freely.

"He can be so prickly, so cold. But they insist behind that facade, he’s sweet, kind. Takes good care of them, afterwards. I didn’t really know that meant, but from what I know of him, it was unexpected to hear.

"And his partners, these powerful men? Well, I see the way they orbit around him, simply desperate for his attention. Looking at him as if he knows the secrets to a new tax cut.”

Steve couldn’t help the triumphant smile; that was exactly what he’d wanted, needed, to hear.

“May I ask dear, why you’re so interested?” Kamala queried, looking as though she already knew the answer.

“No, you may not.” Steve said primly. Kamala burst out laughing and Steve quickly joined her.

“Well then, I will not be telling you where to find young Mr. Barnes this evening. Even though I happen to know where he will be.” She said.

“Hm, it wouldn’t happen to be the…ah, the.” Steve stopped. Damn. Why he hadn’t asked what tonight’s event was. He snapped his fingers and waved them in a circle. “The, ah.”

Kamala finally took pity on him. “The ah. The Veteran’s Society Friendship soiree.” Steve couldn’t hold back the eyeroll at the ludicrous name. And then he remembered he’d made some office worker cry over having to attend a fundraiser for veterans and felt his stomach plummet with shame. Great, another screw up for the highlight reel.

“Oh no, I’ve just told you. “ Kamala realized, sounding regretful. “I was going to make you agree to something before I gave away such valuable information.”

“You were going to blackmail Captain America? Kamala? That’s awful.” They both shared a laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

As the taxi pulled up to the gala, Steve fired off one final text, confirming he would be attending his first SHIELD approved therapy session on the following Friday. The thought of being out of the field so long was starting to inflame his nerves. He shook his head clear, well, as clear as it could get these days, and ventured inside.

He made a desperate dash towards the bar which as usual was on the far side of the room. He held in a sigh as he was waylaid almost immediately by several serious looking people in suits as cheap as his. They confirmed his suspicion when they introduced themselves as the charity organizers. He gave them an earnest, appreciative smile, and nodded thoughtfully while they discussed their work.

Two hours crawled by before Steve got his first glimpse of Bucky. The suit he was wearing made Steve’s brain stutter, black with dark maroon accents, and fitted perfectly to accentuate the long lines of his body. He clicked his jaw back into place and hoped nobody had seen him blatantly checking out the younger man.

It took another hour for Steve to get close enough to introduce himself. Bucky had been surrounded by people but always seemed to slip away the second Steve was nearby.

He finally cornered him next to a table with a distressingly large flower arrangement covering it. Steve tried not to get distracted calculating how much that had cost versus how much good that money could have done for the Friendly Veterans of Society.

“You’re Bucky Barnes?” He asked, cringing as he heard his own loud, abrupt tone.

“The one, the only.” Bucky replied tersely. “And you are?”

Well. That was new. Oh. Wait. He was just being an ass.

“Steve Rogers.” He said, glad to hear his voice had returned to normal human volume.

“Ah. Help me out, I can never remember, is it Captain, or Judge Rogers?” Bucky sneered. This was not going well. Steve ducked his head.

“About last week, I’m sorry about that. I’m sure it looked bad. I’ve had enough people gossiping about me to know how it feels.” Steve chanced a look at Bucky’s face, saw him shifting but not preparing for a reply attack. “We were talking about you, and it was about your private life. I am really sorry.” Steve finished, sounding as sincere as he felt.

Bucky shifted his weight again, thinking long and hard.

“Fine. Apology accepted.” His tone was far softer than Steve had anticipated and when they met eyes, he saw concern flash over Bucky’s features before his expression twisted into a playful smirk.

“Should I presume you liked what you heard?” Bucky asked.

Steve nodded, “You should.”

“Want to share with the class?”

Steve flushed but nodded again. He wasn’t going to play shy or dumb. He knew the terms, knew the practices.

“You’re a Dom. Full service. And well-known for it. You treat your subs right, even if it’s only a one time thing. Before care and after, I think.”

Bucky raised his eyebrow at the last statement.

“So far you’re top of the class Rogers.” He purred, reaching out to squeeze Steve’s arm lightly before sliding his hand down, pausing to stroke his thumb over Steve’s wrist and then pulling away.

“Is that what you’re looking for, a one night fling? A taste?” Bucky asked lightly, but Steve could hear the question for what it really was, a test.

“Tonight, yes. But it’s something I want for the future too.” He replied honestly. There was no denying Bucky was attractive, the kind of guy Steve would have taken home if they’d met at a bar. But he was searching for more than sex, and if they didn’t fit, they both needed an easy out.

Bucky smiled softly as he nodded, obviously pleased with Steve’s answer.

“Tonight, huh? So forward of you, Captain.” He laughed teasingly. Nodding, Steve smirked back at him in acknowledgement, his body warming to the sweet laugh and sparkling eyes. 

“We can do that Rogers. A vanilla taste test. Wait for me out front, I won’t be far behind.” Bucky said, leaning in close. The dark spicy scent of him flooded Steve’s senses and he struggled to not breath it in deeper.

“If anyone tries to stop you for a little chat, tell them you have an emergency and keep walking.” Bucky instructed, meeting Steve’s gaze with his own steely look. The strength of it lit Steve’s nerves, excitement flaring through his body. Bucky reached for his arm and squeezed lightly again.

“Yeah. Okay. See you soon.” He breathed, turning and starting the perilous trek across the room. His mind whirled, aprehension teasing and tugging at him. Should it have been that easy, what was going to happen next, how was he going to screw this up? Clenching his fists he refocused as best he could on his current mission. A quick exit. He had the feeling if Bucky beat him out the door, the man would simply leave without him.

After the second or third murmured apology and hinted emergency the crowd blocking Steve from the exit parted and he was sucking in fresh air as the night’s chill pinched at his cheeks. 

Several quiet minutes passed before Steve realized he felt calm for the first time in hours, standing, waiting, mission accomplished. A lifeline after being adrift for so long. He may not be able to reach it yet, but just seeing it was easing his constant inner turmoil. 

Bucky strolled by and Steve leapt into action, hurrying to keep up. They slid into the first town car on the row. Settling into his seat Steve glanced around. Not enough room in the back for more than the two of them, but plenty of distance between them and the partitioned off driver.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked, tone suggesting Steve should already be aware of the answer. Steve focused on him before faltering.

“Uh. Sitting here?” He guessed.

“This is my seat. Sit down there.” Bucky said, pointing towards the floor of the car. Steve followed with his gaze.

“Are you serious?” He checked, the floor looked clean and there would be more than enough room for him to rest on his knees comfortably. Still.

“Rogers, you don’t have to trust me with your life. Just trust me to make this good for you. Believe me, I want it to be.”

Steve weighed his options for another moment before deciding to move. Bucky made a fair point, and it was just a taste test, if he hated it, well, at least it won’t have gotten too far.

He slid onto the floor and made himself comfortable, Bucky spreading his legs so Steve was sat between them. He looked up, taking Bucky in, his cool sense of control and his gentle air of aloofness.

“Here’s what will happen. Pay attention. You’re going to open my pants and put my cock in your mouth. And then you’re going to wait for me to get hard. I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you to suck me off. Don’t touch yourself. I’ll take care of that. If you don’t like that, say so. If you want to stop, say so. This isn’t a scene, Rogers. If you say ‘no’ or ‘I need a break’, that’s what we’ll do. Nod your head if you agree. Say something if you don’t. And for the love of god, don’t answer straight away, impress me by thinking about what I’ve just said.”

Steve held back a smirk, and carefully replayed Bucky’s plan in his mind. It was a bit soothing, he thought, and as he’d read in his hours of research, he felt a bit of control over what was happening. He nodded his head as Bucky unleashed his own smirk.

“Do as you’re told then, Rogers.” He instructed. 

Steve slowly reached up, letting his hands brush over Bucky’s thighs before unfastening his pants. He readjusted himself and leant over Bucky’s lap, taking his half-hard cock in his mouth. He eased himself into it, letting only a small amount pass his lips before pausing, then taking more. When his mouth was full he settled and waited.

Moments passed and Steve’s focus narrowed, his thoughts slowing and quieting by degrees. Until he started thinking about how focused he was. As that thought pulled him out of his head he suckled at Bucky’s cock, trying to capture the man’s interest, spur events along.

“No.” Bucky purred. “Do as you’re told.”

Steve stopped and returned to waiting. His mind slowly settled again and all he could really focus on was the mouthful and the growing ache in his thighs.

More time passed by and Steve was drilled down to swallowing around the slowly swelling cock and the various twinges along his spine. It took him by surprise when Bucky carded his hand through Steve’s hair, disconnecting him from his stressed pressure points.

“That’s good, Rogers. I’m impressed. Can you keep doing good?”

Steve nodded as best he could.

“I believe you. Get me hard and put this on. Then you can suck me off. Show me how good you can do it.”

A warmth rushed through Steve at Bucky’s words. His screw ups, mistakes, the feelings of being unmoored in his own mind, they were all hampered slightly by Bucky’s belief he was doing his best.

He took the condom wrapper from Bucky’s hand and tore it open as he started working Bucky’s cock with his mouth.

Steve showed his appreciation by sucking Bucky hard, intent on making him come undone as fast as possible. Bucky slowed his progress when he slid his shoe between Steve’s legs, nudging gently at his crotch. Steve shifted and Bucky wedged his shoe in the worst possible spot. Tears sprung to Steve’s eyes at the pressure against his sac. The pain of it soaking up his attention.

Attempting to ease the pressure, Steve lifted his hips. He nearly choked when he realised he was rock hard, the movement sending pleasure coursing through his body. He repeated the motion, rubbing against Bucky’s foot. Again and again, a mix of uncomfortable pain eased by hot pleasure. He barely registered as Bucky came, arching off the seat and fucking into Steve’s mouth. Steve’s name rolling off Bucky’s lips, interspersed with moans and curses. Steve followed a moment later, just as Bucky grabbed a handful of hair and tugged, hard.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky patted the empty seat next to him and watched Rogers uncurl and pull himself up into the spot. They both leaned back, Bucky letting his head loll. Ragged breathing filled the space. Damn. Well. That had been something else. Tonight was turning out to be one surprise after another. 

He gave Rogers another moment before reaching over and carding his fingers through his hair again. The blissed-out look on Roger's face was nice, he looked peaceful and still for the first time since Bucky had laid eyes on him. He tugged at Roger's hair gently and watched his eyes snap open. Good. Still a long way away from subspace. Bucky had figured that, but it never hurt to check. 

"How do you feel?" He asked, curious. The whole night had taken such an unexpected turn that he felt the need for confirmation. He’d been aware of Rogers circling him the entire evening, eventually closing in on him. The apology for gossiping had been a surprise, but not as nice a one as ending up in the backseat of a car with the guy.

"Quiet. And good. Really good." Rogers breathed out, eyes fluttering closed. He leaned into Bucky's touch and sighed. 

"You were good. You did good for me, Rogers." He offered truthfully. 

They drove around the city once more before Rogers seemed to regain his sense of self. The shutters came down and a heavy kind of tiredness washed over the man. 

"We're close to my place." Rogers noted and Bucky took the hint, having him share the address with the driver.

Bucky let Roger’s earlier admission play on repeat, this could be something he wanted more of in the future. With Bucky. Bucky certainly wanted it too, not only was Rogers gorgeous, there was something beneath the surface, rawer than he was used to.

"So, are you interested in more than a taste?" Bucky asked, only slightly impatiently. A small smile stole over Rogers.

"Yeah. I'd really like that." He said. 

"We need to have a proper conversation then. A meeting. I want to talk about your expectations and your needs. Your likes and dislikes. Putting all your cards on the table can be hard, but it'll benefit you in the long run." Bucky said, cutting himself off before he planned their entire future together. Rogers didn't seem fazed. 

"That sounds good. And embarrassing," he chuckled. "But yeah, we should do that." 

Bucky nodded and handed over his phone.

"Add your details. When is a good time for you?" He watched Rogers pause, his hand hovering over the glowing screen. The strange moment passed without comment and Rogers dutifully tapped away.

"Anytime this week is fine. Except Friday. But I can cancel that actually." Rogers confirmed. 

"What would you be cancelling?" Bucky asked, curiosity piqued again. 

"Just, this therapy thing. It's not a big deal. I'm fine." He babbled. Bucky rolled his eyes and took his phone back.

"No. You're not skipping therapy for this. You can't swap one out for the other. There are things I can't give you that a therapist can. If you agree to be my sub, you won't be skipping therapy for anything. Yes?" He asked, hoping Rogers could understand his point. 

"Yeah, you're right. I get it." He said, meeting Bucky's eyes and nodding. Good. 

The car glided to a stop outside a nice looking apartment building. They made arrangements to meet in a few days, with Bucky to message through the final details. Rogers climbed out and leant back into the car. 

"Thanks for tonight, Bucky." He said, voice soft, a light blush touching his cheeks.

Bucky smirked, "You're welcome." 

Rogers grinned before closing the door. 

Bucky sent the man a quick text, letting him know it was okay to call if he needed to. Then he spent the rest of the night plotting and planning. He really wanted this to work with Rogers. Bucky was officially tired of one night stands or the casual, whenever it suited, relationships he'd built. He knew he was ready for a submissive to call his own. That Rogers was already talking about wanting a future was a sign they were on the same page. 

He was pleased when Rogers checked in each day, short messages letting him know he was looking forward to their next meeting. Bucky took the opportunity to send Rogers an email, with a very important attachment. A slightly modified BDSM checklist. He sent it with clear instructions for Rogers to take his time, do any research, and ask any questions as they came up. Bucky already had a copy of his own answers, on paper and burned into his mind. The master list of what he liked, hated, or would try in a scene.

He took great delight in sending the email to what appeared to be Rogers work account, a very official email address ending in .gov. God, he didn't even feel guilty praying someone in the department's HR or IT office was screening Rogers’ emails. He could picture them crowding around a computer screen, giggling over Captain America delving into kink. 

Wednesday rolled around and Bucky honestly couldn't have outlined how he filled the earlier part of the week if he wanted to. It had been a blur of light social events and reading. While Bucky did his best to stay away from everything Captain America related, he may have perused one or two articles, read part of the Wikipedia entry, scoured for an official Instagram or twitter account, finished two books on WWII history, and watched three of the more recent Cap films. It was hard to ignore the noise swirling around the man, he reasoned. And while he really didn't want second hand details clouding his own perception, those films were actually pretty riveting. 

The only other activity that had held Bucky's attention was adding only about a hundred items to his various online shopping carts, struggling not to order anything before Rogers had actually agreed to be his sub. Depending on Rogers' interests, Bucky already knew he'd be special ordering some custom, heavy-duty pieces. He didn't need Rogers breaking all his toys.

Bucky arrived at the restaurant he'd selected a little early and was lead to the private dining room by an overly pleased host who no doubt had no idea who Bucky was, but was presuming he was someone famous. Bucky waited until he was seated to slide off his sunglasses, knowing they were adding to his general air of mystery. The host smoothed over his lack of recognition and scurried away. 

Bucky had wanted privacy for the meeting, and the small intimate dining room, closed off on three sides by walls with ornate wood paneling, more than offered it. The sweet crisp scents of fine dining permeated the air and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the month he'd spent flitting around the Greek Islands. 

Sunny memories were shredded as Bucky caught a glimpse of Rogers, his face a stormy dark cloud. The host showed him to the table and left as soon as possible. Bucky raised an eyebrow at Rogers and waited for him to take a seat.

"Hello to you, too." Bucky said after waiting for Rogers to finally settle.

"This place is a bit much." Rogers almost snapped. 

"This place is perfectly nice. And it's private." Bucky replied, not bothering to continue his argument as Rogers rolled his eyes. 

"Let me guess, no prices on the menu right?" He asked in a snarky tone. 

"No menu." Bucky bit back. Disbelief flooded Rogers’ features, before he shook his head. Bucky focused on his own breathing for a moment, grounding himself. That was not the re-introduction he'd been anticipating. 

"Sorry," Rogers mumbled. "Just, places like these throw me. I don't belong here and it feels like everyone can see that." 

"They can see it, but that's not important. You're here with me, stay focused on that." Bucky said, his voice losing its harder tones. 

Steve offered him a rueful smile, his mood seeming to change on a dime. 

"So, how do we order?" He asked. 

"Don't worry about that either. I'd like you to tell me about yourself. Not what's been written about you or speculated. Imagine I know nothing about you. Tell me what you think is important about you." Bucky requested, getting the ball rolling before they butted heads again. 

Rogers mulled over the question long enough for their drinks and the appetizers to arrive. 

"My name is Steve," he flashed Bucky a playful grin. "I'm nearly 30, and I work for the government. A Special Forces kind of role. I don't have as many friends as I should, but the ones I do..." He trailed off for a moment.

Bucky mulled it over, he’d only seen Steve a handful of times, and he’d hardly been surrounded by people Bucky would have guessed to be his friends. If he had a small group of friends, they were likely hard won and the kind of people worth fighting to keep. But Steve had that sad, distant look in his eyes, caught up in a memory.

“They mean everything to you? But?” Bucky prompted quietly.

"The friends I do have, I haven't been treating very well lately. And that’s not. That’s not me. Or, it’s not who I mean to be. I feel lost Bucky," his voice dropping to a whisper as he stared at the half empty glass in front of him. Bucky let him avoid eye contact, but prompted him again with an encouraging murmur.

"With my friends. My work. Inside my head. I feel like something has come loose, or broken, and I'm so disconnected." He finished. 

Lost and disconnected rang bells for Bucky. Those issues he could deal with. Had done so in the past. He'd also noticed the self-doubt lingering in what Steve hadn't said. Bucky's mind was whirling with possibilities. He reeled it back in and checked on Steve. His breathing had evened out but he looked a little despondent. Bucky reached across the table and rested his hand over Steve's, stroking lightly with his thumb.

"Good. That's not an easy question to answer, but you did a good job. I'm really pleased with you right now." Bucky murmured, unsurprised by how quickly Steve's head whipped up at the praise. Steve looked unsure for a second longer, before he shared a small smile. 

"I already told you that I can't replace a therapist," Bucky reminded him, waiting for Steve to nod in agreement. "But I can help you ground yourself. It wouldn't be anything permanent, the feeling, it'll fade each time. But if you're chipping away at these feelings from the other side as well, it can certainly help."

"An escape, just for a while?" Steve asked. 

"It might feel like that." Bucky confirmed. He was wary of making promises, especially to someone he was just starting to get to know. 

"Can you tell me about yourself?" Steve asked, his previously innocent smile turning devious. Turnabout was fair play, Bucky supposed. He gathered his thoughts while waiters appeared to remove their half-eaten appetizers and replace them with the next course. 

"My name is James Barnes, but I prefer Bucky. I'm young, wealthy, and haven't worked a day in my life. Stop laughing. I graduated from Georgetown with a useless degree so obscure I had to study in Monaco for a semester. But I love a challenge, so it was worth it to me. My family is crazy, the only one of them I could stand was my grandmother. She passed a few years ago, but I still miss her. And I'm still friends with her sixth husband, who is four years older than me." Bucky finished, winking at Steve as the man's eyebrows flew up into his hairline.

"Four years? How does that even work out? No, wait. Never mind." He laughed. "She sounds like a firecracker."

"She was a hell of a lady." Bucky agreed. "Honestly, the last thing I'd add is, outside of a relationship I find it hard to show people I care about them. But please, don't doubt that I care about you, especially if we go forward with this." 

Steve nodded thoughtfully, taking a moment to digest everything he'd heard. Bucky waved away an approaching waiter. He hadn't even touched his meal yet. A ball of nerves was unravelling in his stomach, he wouldn't be able to fit anything else in there anyway. 

"You didn't send me back your checklist." Bucky said, moving the conversation along. Admittedly, he hadn't given Steve a deadline to return it, but he'd been expecting it before today. The blush spreading across Steve's cheeks gave him a hint towards the reason why. 

"I've mostly finished it." He replied shyly. "I was, uh, familiar with a lot of the content." He paused to clear his throat. "I've seen other checklists, samples I guess? There was some stuff missing from yours?" 

Bucky nodded in agreement. "I left off things that were beyond hard limits for me. The stuff that is marked as a hard limit, I left in as a guide for you. I'm sure you could work out what I lean towards."

"I think so." Steve said, pulling out his phone. Bucky signaled for the waiter to return while Steve emailed his copy back to Bucky. 

Bucky flicked his eyes over the list, unable to help his growing satisfied smirk. Their interests lined up neatly, only a small number of discrepancies. Nothing Bucky wouldn't mind giving up. There were more 'willing to try' answers than straight yes', which was pleasing. It meant Steve had given it a lot of thought, which was all Bucky had asked for. 

"Good," he murmured, not meaning for Steve to hear it. But the man perked up anyway.

"Really?" He asked. Bucky nodded, putting his phone back in his pocket. 

"Here's what I want to propose, Steve. Another taste test, but this time a real scene. We're going to plan it over the next few days, and if you're free on Saturday night, we can organize it for then. We're going to follow your hard yes's. We can use a safe word, the traffic light system, if you want, but, if I hear a 'no' or a 'stop', or anything remotely along those lines, we're stopping. Yes?" Bucky waited, breath holding. 

"Yes." Steve replied. "I mean, yes to Saturday night, and yes to the rest."

"I need you to tell me when you have therapy sessions. I don't think it would be smart to go from that to a scene in one day, and no offense, but I don't trust you enough yet to make a good call, considering you were willing to ditch it."

"I understand. It's just a first appointment this week, but if it's a weekly thing, I'll let you know." 

Bucky hid his consternation at Steve's words, the guy seemed to be on edge at a mere party, how did he think he would only need one therapy session to deal with whatever he was going through? 

"I don't expect you to tell me about the sessions, or anything you feel is too private. I just want to be clear with our schedules." Bucky clarified, just in case. 

"No, that's good. Like I said, I understand."

"Any questions?" 

"Probably," Steve laughed. Bucky joined him. 

"Ask anytime, I always have my phone. And I'll always check your messages." Bucky reassured him. He leant back in his seat and noticed the beautiful dessert now sitting in front of him, half melted. The taste took Bucky back to the Greek Islands again, juicy peaches and heavy cream. He noticed Steve watching his mouth as he slid the spoon out. He licked his lips and grinned as Steve swallowed hard. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork at the end of this chapter!!

Time passed in bursts for Steve, flashing by so fast he wasn't even sure how he'd filled it or dragging by so slowly he could feel himself aging. His main preoccupation since lunch with Bucky had been planning their scene. It reminded him of mission prep and calmed the whirl of his mind. Bucky had stayed true to his word, the scene was BDSM lite, but Steve could barely sit still every time he thought about it.

He'd gone to his therapy appointment, it had felt pointless, simply jumping through a hoop to get back in the field, but he'd gone. Steve had shocked himself and the doctor when he agreed to return the next week for two more appointments. Part of him wondered if he'd done so for Bucky and his approval. 

All he knew for sure was that he was a jittery mess Friday night and he was glad Bucky had had the forethought to insist they not do scene on a therapy day.

While Steve had no problem admitting he was attracted to Bucky's handsome face and the sharp figure he cut in those crisp suits, it was the little things that were cementing his attraction more and more with each interaction. Bucky's genuine care for his wellbeing. The encouraging touches which Steve was surprisingly starved for. The way he hadn't presumed Steve wouldn't have caught up with technology and be unable to add himself to Bucky's phone contacts. All of these small gestures were kindling to the fire. 

The only thing that had given Steve reason to pause was Bucky's comment about loving challenges. It had hit him after their lunch, and Steve had allowed himself to drown in doubt for a moment. Was he just a challenge to Bucky? An extra-large notch on the bedpost? He'd pushed it down, Bucky's gentler moments overwhelming the doubt. 

Steve was pulled from his thoughts as Bucky's sleek town car pulled up to the curb. He slid into the backseat and made himself comfortable. The ride was short but there was more than enough time for Steve's nerves to catch up to him. The floating feeling was back, though not as strong as usual. His fists flexed on their own accord and his teeth were grinding in a painful way.

He pulled his phone out to distract himself, the lack of reply from Nat sunk his mood even further. He was back at work Monday, and had sent her an apology text with an offer to buy coffee if she'd let him apologize in person as well. He returned to Bucky's messages and ran through the scene they had planned, one last time. The buzzing in his mind slowed as he thought through each action, each possible reaction. By the time the car slowed to a stop, Steve was as calm as he was going to get, and a little turned on. 

He eagerly bounded into the building intending to skip right up to Bucky's door when he was stopped by a receptionist. His hand was shaking slightly as he signed his name into the guest book and he barely heard the porter’s easy banter as they rode the elevator up to the penthouse. 

The maid meeting him at the door threw him, he hadn't been expecting anyone else to be in the apartment. They greeted him demurely but frowned when he didn't have a coat or jacket to hand over. He didn't need one, the serum had him running warm all the time. The maid gestured towards the living room beyond the doorway and Steve wandered in, registering the maid disappearing. 

The living room was a wide, open space. Natural light flowed in through the tall windows and reflected off the cream walls and fixtures. Ornate vases and figures splashed color around the room, while the brocade patterns on the furniture contrasted with the simple elegance of the cream grand piano. 

After running a critical eye over nearly every inch of the room, and approving the restraint that precluded any garrish displays of wealth, Steve finally headed down the wide hallway towards the bedroom Bucky had mentioned. The door was closed and he couldn't hear any sound beyond it. Resting his hand on the knob, he reigned in his growing excitement, his nerves, and the tension slowly clawing at his muscles, then entered the room. 

The darkened bedroom was a jarring contrast to the light airiness of the rest of the apartment. The long and heavy grey curtains were pulled closed, not even a slither of sunlight sneaking in around the edges. The bed was a thing of beauty, a dark wood frame with thick posters reaching up towards the ceiling. An inviting navy duvet covered the bed, with a dozen odd sized pillows and cushions resting against the headboard. The only other furniture were matching bedside tables, a dresser, and a plush oversized armchair in the corner. 

Steve walked towards the other door in the room and opened it to reveal the ensuite. Simple but elegant, and lighter than the bedroom, with pale grey marble flooring and counters. Steve pulled the door closed behind him and started stripping off his clothing. He knew Bucky would be seated by the time he returned to the room but still felt a mix of nerves and giddiness. He paused at his briefs, he wasn't shy about his body or being nude, not after all the medical situations he'd found himself in, but this was going to be distinctly more intimate. He ran his fingers over the soft material before sliding his underwear down his thighs. He stowed his clothes into a neatish pile and checked himself over in the mirror one last time before opening the door. 

Steve's eyes were immediately drawn to Bucky, sprawled in the armchair, legs spread wide, and a growing smirk on his face as he took in Steve's form. As Steve got closer, his breath became labored. Bucky was wearing tight black trousers, sharply pressed. He had a crisp white button down shirt, and what was strapped over it made Steve swear under his breath.

A black leather harness, two thin straps reaching across Bucky's chest and connecting to a loop over each shoulder. Steve had seen similar gun harnesses, but knowing it was just for show, just for him, his lungs gave up and he stopped breathing completely for a few beats. Heat pooled low in his belly and lust fogged his mind. He blinked at Bucky a few more times before he realized the man was talking. 

"Sit." Bucky said as he pointed at a spot on the floor near his feet. Steve swore again as he took in the fine black leather gloves and shiny dress shoes. 

He came to a rest on his knees as his mind spun.

"Look at you," Bucky murmured as Steve felt his eyes raking over his naked body. “You’re quite the sight. Do people tell you you’re pretty Steve? I bet you’ve heard every other word, deservingly so, but I think you’re pretty as well. Those sweet baby blues, pink lips begging for a kiss, and all that innocent blushing. Really fucking pretty, Steve. Although, you’re not going to be so innocent when I’m done with you.” 

Steve’s mind spun, he dimly noted that every part of him Bucky had praised was something untouched by the serum. He arched his back, preening slightly, and centered himself, digging his fingers into the thick plush carpet beneath him. Their careful planning for the scene floated into his mind, the lifeline returning. He grasped it this time, and ran over the scene once more. It settled him, pulled him into the present. It was Bucky's shoe rubbing against his bent leg that pulled him into his body as well. 

He lifted his head, eyes focusing on Bucky's knees and waited. He felts the tips of Bucky's gloves gently stroke his cheek before resting on his lips. 

"Good. Stay there." Bucky said, removing his hand and resting back into the seat. 

Time passed slowly, allowing Steve to acclimatize. Bucky's familiar scent washed over him, the hint of spice still there. The room was warm, Steve could tell beyond his well heated body. His adrenaline ebbed and flowed, sensing something was coming but unsure if he needed to be battle ready or just aware. 

As the warm ache in Steve's thighs began to edge to towards uncomfortable, Bucky shifted, then stood up. Steve felt the brush of fabric alongside his face and shivered. A hand lightly carded through his hair before grasping tightly. He moved quickly as Bucky pulled, sliding onto his knees and then leaning over the vacated seat. Bucky kept his grip, holding Steve's head up, stopping him from dropping it into the cushion. 

"Rest your arms under your chest." Bucky murmured. Steve obeyed, crossing his arms and resting his weight on them. "Don't drop your stomach." He added, releasing Steve's hair to move behind him. Steve flushed as he realized just how on display he was, naked ass sticking up in the air. A leather clad hand stroked one of his buttocks and pinched lightly, playfully, before disappearing. Steve sucked in a breath, listening closely for the rustle of Bucky's clothing moving around the room. A drawer slid open and packaging was crinkled as something was removed. 

Bucky finally returned and Steve barely avoided flinching as two cool items were placed on his back.

“Don’t let these fall, Steve. Think you can manage that?” Bucky asked.

“Yes, sir.” Steve replied, eyes closing as he concentrated on straightening his back.

“Good, don’t want to disappoint me do you?”

“No, sir.” He breathed. Disappointing Bucky was the last thing he wanted right now.

“Hm. Spread your legs more.” Bucky instructed. Steve slowly and carefully shuffled one knee further to the side and then the other, pausing for a few seconds as one of the items on his back listed slightly.

Bucky’s hand ran over Steve’s ass again, petting it.

“Good.” He murmured. Steve couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. He wanted to prove to Bucky how good he could be all night. Get something right, all the way through, for once.

One of the items was removed and the loud click of a lid snapping open filled the room. The burgeoning negativity in Steve’s mind was silenced.

Something new and light fell onto Steve’s back but before he could work out what it was, Bucky’s fingers slid between his ass cheeks, touching lightly over his rim. His fingers were coated in cool, wet lube, and Steve held in a gasp as Bucky slid his fingers up and down, repeating the motion over and over, grazing his rim on each stroke. He could only arch his back so far, he realized, desperately wanting to increase the pressure from Bucky’s gliding fingers. If he dipped too much, he’d lose whatever was on his back and disappoint Bucky. He bit his lip and moaned in frustration and pleasure as a finger swirled around his rim once, twice, and then returned to the smooth sliding.

The teasing increased as Steve struggled to keep his hips from canting. The burning friction where his knees touched the carpet told him he wasn’t entirely successful.

Steve dropped his head as Bucky dipped a finger into his hole.

“You’re doing so good, Steve. Keep it up, might earn a treat.” Bucky said, voice low and full of dark promises. Steve could only moan as another finger slid inside him and the slow stretching continued. Moments later a third finger was added and Steve was starting to feel full.

“That what you need?” Bucky growled. Steve nodded his head, wondering when his forehead had come to rest on the cushion.

“I can’t hear you, Steve.” Bucky said.

Taking a deep, stuttered breath, Steve managed a reply. “Yes. I need this.”

“Hmm. So just this then?” Bucky queried, twisting his fingers and brushing over Steve’s prostate. Stars burst across Steve’s vision and he groaned remembering how limited his movements were, unable to push back into Bucky’s hand.

“This is all you want, Steve?” Bucky asked again, and Steve could hear the smirk.

“No. More. Please, I need more too.” Steve begged, ignoring the hint of whine to his voice. 

Bucky laughed. “So greedy, I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

Steve couldn’t help agreeing as a particularly needy and embarrassing whine slipped past his lips. 

"Please, sir." 

Bucky brushed over his prostate again in reply, sending ripples of pleasure up Steve's spine and pulsing through his mind, disrupting his thoughts. He reveled in the peace as Bucky removed his fingers and lifted the heavier item off Steve's back.

"I know you're going to take this so good for me, Steve." Bucky said as a blunt weight pressed against Steve's rim. Steve let out as slow breath, relaxing his muscles and groaned as the plug slid into him, filling him.

"So greedy, didn't even have to push it in you. You want me to turn it on?" Bucky asked, breathy and proud.

"God, yes. Please, sir." Steve felt the first stress tremor run up his thigh and shifted his weight. 

"Don't drop your stomach, keep being good, Steve. I know you can." Bucky said, noticing the movement. Bucky's still gloved hand stroked over his ass, cupping each cheek and squeezing. A light clap rocked Steve forward. 

The bottle of lube and what had to be Bucky's other glove were picked off his back and landed on the floor somewhere near the back of the chair. Steve took advantage and finally arched his back, squeezing down on the plug inside him. A groan escaped him just as Bucky's hand slapped down on his ass.

"I just told you not to move." He snapped. 

"Sorry, sir." Steve mumbled into the cushion, squeezing against the unrelenting plug inside him, biting back a moan.

"No, you're not," Bucky replied, sounding amused. "Not yet anyway." Steve shuddered and tried to still himself. 

Another light smack jolted Steve, followed by a whole series around his cheeks. The strength of each hit increasing before Bucky slowed and started again with gentle taps. Steve could feel his skin warming and the plug jostling. Without warning it sprang to life, vibrating inside him. He couldn't hold back the moan this time, and let it out loud enough to fill the room. His mind stuttered and all he could focus on was the hot pleasure pulsing in his ass. 

“Feels good?” Bucky checked in, slowing to a stop with the vigorous spanking Steve had been enjoying. It took two tries before Steve could sputter out enough words to form a coherent sentence.

“Feels real good, sir.” He confirmed, panting heavily.

The vibrations from the plug intensified in response. Bucky laughing darkly as Steve groaned and his thighs shook.

“Getting close to coming, Steve?” Bucky asked. He was. His stomach swooped and he grit his teeth as a sharp spank landed across his ass.

“Answer.” Bucky demanded.

“Yes.” Steve gasped out. “I’m going to come.” He mumbled, feeling the truth of it in every muscle.

“No. Not yet.” Bucky instructed, ignoring Steve’s pained response as he landed another heavy swat. Steve shook his head and focused on his body, reigning in control over every aching inch. He didn’t know how much longer he could last, but it wouldn’t be long if he wasn’t present. His ass was on fire, smarting from Bucky’s hand, while his hips canted back and forth, unsure if he wanted to be within Bucky’s reach or not. As he checked in with each part of his body, his cock pulled his attention, hard and drooling. What he’d give to be allowed to reach down and stroke it. 

The vibrations from the plug increased again and Steve cursed loud and long. He was surprised to hear Bucky’s dark chuckle coming from further behind him than before. A drawer was pushed shut and Steve’s body lit up as he remembered what was coming next.

“You’re being so good for me Steve, you deserve a reward. Don’t you think?” Bucky asked, his voice coming closer with each word.

“Please, sir.” Steve replied brokenly. He jolted as a heavy leather clad paddle gently rubbed across his ass.

“Ready for this?” Bucky asked.

“Please.” Steve repeated, begging.

“Four Steve. That’s all for today. Four and then you can come. Count for me.” Bucky instructed. Steve nodded into the cushion, simultaneously wanting four hundred swats while unsure if he could make it to three.

The first whump of the paddle sent a heavy shockwave rushing up his body. He groaned and arched his back, his body threatening to rebel and come straight away. He could hear Bucky’s voice but couldn’t make out the words. He struggled against the heat boiling over and rasped out, “One. One, sir.”

Bucky’s murmured, “Good” sent another warm rush through his body.

The second smack came and Steve managed to remain in control of his senses, crying out the second number before Bucky had to get his attention.

With the third smack, Steve grit his teeth and dug his nails into his palms, every nerve in his body replaced by taunt wires holding more tension than he’d thought possible.

He choked out a broken, desperate “three.” He didn’t think he could last another, even if it was only seconds away. The vibrations from the plug increased and he choked again. His whole body was rocking back and forth, hips stuttering, hands clenching, teeth grinding. He was burning up and as he heard the swoosh of the paddle through the air, his stomach dropped and he cried out as contact was made.

A quiet thump was followed by Bucky’s hand carding through Steve’s hair. The other slipped around and under him, wrapping around his throbbing cock. He moaned loudly as Bucky stroked him and murmured sweet nothings in his ear.

“How good you are. Knew you could be good. You did everything right. You can come for me now, Steve. So good.”

Steve let the heat take over and spill out of him. The intense orgasm roaring through his body in a way he’d never felt before, or guessed was possible. His vision dimmed and his breathing was harsh. Hardly any air was making its way to his lungs.

Bucky stroked him through it, removing the hand from his hair only once, and the vibrating plug slowed and eventually stopped.

He was aware time had passed, but had no sense of how long he’d remained in the straining position, his knees burning from the carpet, his thighs shaking more noticeably, his forearms aching. He slowed pulled back and slid down onto the floor, sitting with his forehead resting against the edge of the seat.

Bucky had moved with him and was now plastered against Steve’s back, running soft kisses between his shoulders. Steve shuddered as he felt the soft fabric of Bucky’s shirt, his pants. God, Bucky hadn’t even undressed when he’d taken Steve apart. The thought made his cock twitch and he huffed out a laugh at it. Bucky’s voice broke the fog.

“Steve, talk to me?”

Steve blinked, had Bucky been asking questions? He frowned, hoping he hadn’t disappointed Bucky by missing them.

“Sorry, sir. What was that?” He croaked. Bucky breathed a quiet chuckle against Steve’s neck.

“Just wanted you to check in. How do you feel?” He asked.

“Amazing. I’ve never felt like that before. Just so, focused but also not? That doesn’t make sense.” He said, confusion washing through him as he tried to order his thoughts. “I want to do it again.” He mumbled. Bucky barked out a loud laugh that time.

“Right now?” He asked, incredulous, “I must be losing my touch.”

“No. God, no. Later, I mean. Tomorrow later.” Steve gestured with his hand, “later, later.”

Bucky chuckled, and Steve felt him nodding his head.

“Another time?” Bucky checked.

“Another time soon. Sir.” Steve confirmed.

“Noted. Let’s get this out,” Bucky tapped on the plug, “and get you somewhere more comfortable.”

Steve flushed as the plug slid out of him but any embarrassment was washed away as a soft fluffy blanket was wrapped around his shoulders. He watched Bucky wipe a cloth over his stomach, catching the sticky mess he’d made. The blanket felt nice and Steve pulled it tighter around him, surprised it was big enough to fit around his shoulders and pool between his legs.

Bucky helped him up and guided him over to the bed. Steve couldn’t even muster the energy to be irritated over the gentle treatment, something he usually rallied against.

It took a long time, wrapped in the warm blanket and Bucky’s surprisingly strong arms, before his mind calmed and he could think in a way that made sense. He tuned in and out to Bucky’s hushed voice, praising him. It made him feel warm and fuzzy, and he felt like he could do no wrong.

The feelings lasted through his shower, and almost all the way back to his apartment hours later.

Seeing his building brought back his insecurities in low waves, building up his nerves. He started as Bucky reached across the seat and squeezed his hand.

“You did great last night, Steve. I’m proud of you, you did everything I asked, and you did it all so well.” Bucky said. His words attacked the growing numbness and Steve smiled.

“Thank you.” He replied quietly, turning his hand to squeeze Bucky back. They shared a smile before Steve slipped out of the car and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the art that inspired it all...seriously, thank you Capsiclemycaptain!! Love it!!
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/t0V6DQC)  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

Watching Steve Rogers work the room at any event, including tonight’s Farewell for the departing Director Wecker, put Bucky on edge. No longer the uneasy unsettled edge of months ago, but a new sharp, blood warming edge. Because tonight, Steve was his. His to break open and unwind. The quick glances from Steve suggested he was getting increasingly antsy waiting for it. Because of course Bucky was making him wait. 

Bucky had already watched Steve catch up with Kamala Khan, and had stood there while Steve attempted to introduce him to Natalie someone who supposedly worked for Stark Industries. If they wanted to pretend she wasn't the redhead who had helped saved New York from aliens, fine, whatever, Bucky wasn't going to say anything.

Bucky was really now only waiting for Steve to talk to the hosting committee one last time before he gave him the signal to leave. Bucky continued ignoring Peter Sampat, the older man trying to capture his attention at the next table. Bucky wasn’t interested, not when he had Steve, not when their relationship was going strong and had spilled over into romantic. A few dinners here and there, attending a party or two together that ended with a goodnight kiss on Steve's front doorstep. Bucky was enjoying the little extras. Especially with the changes evident in Steve.

Their growing closeness occasionally worried Bucky, usually after a week of radio silence and then a reappearance featuring a body covered in mottled bruises. He had never let himself get too attached to any one person, but he was falling for Steve and becoming addicted to their connection.

Downing the last of his scotch, he caught Steve's eye and nodded, tilting his head towards the exit. Not exactly a stealthy signal, but the light blush dusting Steve's cheeks made it worth it. If anyone had seen, there would be no doubt they were going home together. Steve Rogers, Captain America, going home with Bucky Barnes, notorious Dom.

Bucky smirked to himself, and as Steve swept past him, clicked a button on the small remote in his jacket pocket. There was barely a hitch in Steve's stride but Bucky knew the vibrating plug inside him had jumped to life, delivering a short series of pulses before switching off again. They took separate cars back to Bucky's penthouse, with Bucky's taking a twenty minute detour. More than enough time for Steve to shed his clothing and be in place, waiting patiently for Bucky. 

Poorly concealing a fond smile, Bucky walked into their bedroom and saw exactly that, Steve kneeling by Bucky's chair, flawless golden body on display. They had already set tonight's scene, Bucky always finding it amusing how much Steve enjoyed plotting every last detail. But he understood, losing control was an issue for Steve, he didn't like to give it up unless he knew precisely what was coming, or as was becoming the case, if he trusted the person he was with.

Bucky took his time picking out a black satin scarf, letting it slide smoothly over Steve's skin, before wrapping it around his head, cutting off his sight. He let his fingers drag through Steve's hair as he tied the knot. He returned to the dresser and took out items for himself, his black leather chest harness, and his gloves. Sliding them on was part of his ritual, settling him into the right headspace.

He removed the rest of the items he'd need and laid them out carefully, keeping an eye on Steve. The man had a soft expression on his face, relaxed and open, his lips turning up slightly, as if he wasn't aware it was happening.

Bucky had been surprised Steve had kept up with his therapy sessions, he seemed like the type to blow it off first chance he got. The changes in him were noticeable, soft, quiet moments like this, and those quick, unnerving flashes of mood were coming further and further apart. He seemed more focused, for longer, when they were simply spending time together, less lost in his head. 

Bucky kissed the tip of his favorite crop before laying it down too. They'd recently graduated from hand stinging spanks to floggers and agreed they were both ready for a little more tonight. It had taken a long and serious discussion before Steve agreed that just because he could handle pain, heal from it quickly, it didn't mean he was ready for the worst of it. Bucky was overly cautious, but he didn't want Steve to feel like a punching bag. If Bucky was getting something out of it, Steve needed to as well.

Finally ready, Bucky crossed the room back to Steve, taking a seat for a moment.

"Are you with me, Steve?" He purred, carding his fingers through the man's hair, just the way he liked. 

"Yes, sir." Steve replied, trying to nuzzle into Bucky's hand without being obvious. Bucky let him have a moment. 

"You're going to be good for me tonight, aren't you?" 

"Yes, sir."

"You love showing me how good you can be. I love seeing you try. You like that, don't you, pleasing me?" 

"Yes, sir."

"Impressing me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Are you ready? Give me a color." 

"Green, sir." They had moved on to safe words, and using the traffic light system for checking in. 

"So good for me." Bucky murmured. He tugged lightly at Steve's hair once, before pulling it tightly and rising from his seat. Steve moved quickly, hissing when he fell out of step and Bucky kept tugging him along. Bucky led him across the room, stopping a breath before they hit the bed. 

"Up, on your knees." Bucky commanded, guiding Steve onto the bed, watching him slide a little on the silk sheets. Kneeling behind him, Bucky rubbed his hands up and down Steve's arms before stretching them above his head. He grasped the soft hemp rope dangling from the ceiling and started looping it around Steve's wrists. He pulled it tight and checked the length, pulling it shorter until Steve's arm muscles were starting to bulge. 

"Perfect. Look at you, all strung up for me." Bucky breathed into Steve's ear. A shudder ran down Steve and he flexed his arms, testing the rope. 

"Green?"

"Green, sir." 

Bucky smiled, he knew from testing it on himself the rope was soft on skin and the position wouldn't exert Steve for a while yet. 

He jabbed at the remote for the vibrator, bringing it to life to buzz away inside Steve's pert ass, and enjoyed the full body flinch as he kicked it up another speed. He resettled in front of Steve, running a line of kisses up Steve's hardened cock and stroking his hand over his stomach and up towards his chest. He massaged at the thick pecs and rubbed his thumb over each nipple until they were tight buds. Steve's stomach jumped at the touches before he pushed into each one, always seeking just a little more contact. 

Bucky reached for the first clamp and trailed it up the smooth planes of Steve's abdomen and swirled it around his pec, nudging it into the flesh and skipping over the nipple. Steve sucked in a breath and strained against the rope. Bucky licked a thick stripe over the sensitive bud before slowly setting and tightening the clamp around it. Steve gasped and then moaned lowly, pushing his body forward. Bucky stroked his fingers around the tight clamp, leaning in to suck the smarting skin and lay a trail of feather light kisses across Steve's chest.

He sucked Steve’s other nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue before grazing his teeth over it. He reached for the second clamp and held it against Steve's lips a second, waiting for the man to kiss it before tightening it in place over the peaked nipple.

Bucky leaned back, reviewing his work, pinching at various spots over Steve's chest and stomach, enjoying the way he flinched and jumped, writhing back and forth. 

"You're being so good, Steve. Do you think you've earned a treat?" Bucky asked, pulling his gloves off with his teeth. He let his bare fingers ghost over Steve's drooling cock. 

"Mm, please. Sir." Steve mumbled in reply. Bucky smirked, he could tell when Steve started drifting and needed to be pulled back into the moment. 

"I think you have too. You can come as soon as you want." Bucky offered, wrapping his hand around Steve's cock and stroking. 

"Thank you, sir." Steve breathed before a loud long moan escaped him. Bucky stroked him through it tenderly, taking his time but not deliberately slowing down. Steve came hard, ropes of come falling across the bed beneath him. His head hung forward and his breaths came rapidly, harshly. Bucky rubbed Steve's arms, feeling out the tense muscles. He could last a while longer, Bucky decided. 

"Still green, Steve?" He asked, checking, just in case. 

"Green. God. More, please? Sir?" Steve begged, warming Bucky's heart and spending a spark to his own interested cock. He palmed himself through his pants, thinking about what was coming next. 

He patted around on the bed until he located the remote for the vibrator, turning it up to the final, highest setting. The groan from Steve made Bucky laugh. He climbed off the bed and reached for the crop, placing it closer to Steve but not touching him with it yet. Instead, Bucky ran his hands up and down Steve's back, massaging into the taunt muscles, pressing his knuckles into pressure points. Steve's head lolled and he smiled in pleasure. Bucky murmured sweet nothings into his ear, letting his clothed body press against Steve's naked back. He dropped one hand and groped at Steve's ass check, squeezing it tight and then rubbing away the pain. 

"Need some more?" Bucky asked teasingly. 

"I do. Please, sir." Steve said, nodding as vigorously as he could. Bucky kissed at the blindfold before stepping away from the bed. He picked up the crop, feeling the deceptive light weight in his hand. Whipping it through the air, he appreciated the tight whoosh sound as well as the goosebumps covering Steve's skin in reaction. He teased the tip along Steve's back, tracing muscles, sliding it up his arms and all the way down to his thighs.

Heat pooled in Bucky's stomach, seeing the tough crop and knowing he was going to weld it to bring Steve intense pleasure. 

He lightly flicked the crop over Steve's ass, one cheek at a time, warming him up. He rubbed at the pinked skin, letting his nails dig in for a second. 

"Ten, Steve. You get ten. You're going to count for me. Each one." Bucky instructed, taking a step back. 

"Ten, please. Yes, sir." Steve said, his voice dipping back into begging territory. Bucky loved that, the icon for stoicism letting himself beg. Bucky's nerves came alive and he leant forward to playfully nip at Steve's shoulder. 

"Be good." Bucky reminded him, a second before he brought the crop down. A light touch but Steve still flinched forward, straining the ropes. 

"One." He bit out. Bucky repeated the motion, striking the other side.

"Two." 

Bucky made sure to get just under Steve's ass, causing his cheeks to jiggle. 

"Three, sir." Steve snapped, knowing Bucky well enough by now to know he'd done that on purpose. Bucky gave his ribs a quick pinch.

"Be good." Bucky reminded him, smirking even though he couldn’t be seen.

"Sorry, sir." 

The next three strikes were fast and the pressure increased with each blow. Steve cried out each number, struggling to remain still. 

Bucky teased him with the tip, running it around his ass before sliding it along his crack. He rained down three more harsh strikes, sucking his lip between his teeth to hold back a moan of his own. Pink had turned red and dark bruises were starting to show. Bucky breathed deeply, stomach fluttering at the sight of his marks on Steve. 

"Looking so good, Steve." He whispered, shuddering at his slightly wrecked voice. "One more. Can you be good, for one more?" 

Steve moaned and nodded, his head hung forward, his ass sticking out. Bucky couldn't resist taking a second, gazing at the perfect peach of an ass, red lined and shaking lightly. 

"One more," Bucky repeated, breathless. He sliced the crop through the air and struck Steve hard. The man pitched forward, crying out, his hips canting back and forth. Bucky slipped close behind and reached around, grasping Steve's angry red cock. 

"It's okay, come for me, Steve. You're so good. You can come again." Bucky murmured, quickly stroking Steve, twisting his wrist and squeezing. Steve cursed and shuddered hard through another orgasm. His come splattering the bedspread again. 

Bucky stayed glued to Steve's back, smoothing his hands up his sides until his breathing was less ragged and he seemed to be floating back down to earth. Gently rubbing the muscles in his arms, Bucky slowly began loosening the rope and untying it. He brought Steve's arms down, massaging each wrist to get the circulation flowing again. 

When he was satisfied, Bucky shifted away, turning the plug down to the lowest setting. He guided Steve to rest on his hands and knees, arms shakily taking his weight. Bucky massaged over his shoulder blades, feeling the tension, coiling but not too stressful, yet. Bucky retrieved his newest spreader bar. Special order, custom made. Heavy duty. Already a slight bend from the first time they used it, thank you Steve.

He nudged it between Steve's legs, forcing his knees to spread even further. Clasping each loop closed around Steve's lower thighs, the spreader was a snug fit and had Steve stretched wide open. Bucky gave him a light swat before turning up the plug vibrations. 

"You've been so good, Steve. I'm so pleased by everything you're doing. Think you can go one more round?" Bucky asked, even though they both already knew the answer. Previous experience showing Steve could go many more rounds than Bucky had been able to test. 

"Yes, sir. Want to keep being good for you." Steve said into the sheets. 

"I know you do." Bucky murmured, settling into position, leaning over Steve and sliding each hand under his arms and up to his chest. Bucky tweaked the forgotten clamps causing Steve to jerk and cry out. Bucky continued twisting and pulling them, Steve writing beneath him, pushing his ass up against Bucky's tented pants. The sensation threatened to short-circuit Bucky's brain and he couldn't help rutting back. They moaned in unison and Bucky finally released one clamp, gently rubbing his hand over the sensitized skin. 

"Mm sir, Bucky, God that's good." Steve gasped, pushing his back against Bucky and grinding against his hard cock. Bucky honestly couldn't have agreed more, twisting the final clamp and enjoying the surprised cry from Steve.

"This one too, Steve, want it off?" Bucky asked, flicking the clamp. Steve moaned, trying to nod his head.

"Steve?" Bucky prompted, pressing his wicked grin into Steve’s back.

"Yes, sir, now. Please." Steve brokenly replied. Bucky gave the clamp one last slow twist before removing it. Steve's groans had Bucky's cock twitching and he couldn't help rubbing it against Steve's pink ass.

"That feels better, doesn't it? So good for me." Bucky praised. He dropped the clamps and picked up the remote for the plug, turning it up as Steve resumed writhing.

Bucky took his time turning the plug up to its highest setting, letting Steve get comfortable to each level before shocking the breath out of him. Bucky moved around the bed, lifting Steve's head and smiled at the sight of tears wetting the silk scarf and running down his cheeks. Bucky readjusted himself, now fully hard at the pained vision laid out before him. Returning to the foot of the bed, he ran his fingers over the crop, delight running through him at the prospect of raining it down on Steve's already sensitive ass, intensifying the pain. 

"I'm going to give you five, Steve. I know you can take it, know you can be good for me a little longer. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir." Steve huffed, his voice wrecked and desperate.

"Good." Bucky praised, a thrill tingling his spine as Steve pushed himself. "Count them. Each one."

Bucky laid two light strikes in quick succession, hitting already red skin. Steve cried out the numbers, breathing ragged, fingers tearing at the sheets. Bucky swung again, and waited for Steve to bite out the next number.

Bucky grabbed at his cock, rubbing it through his pants, trying to ease the tension. A wet patch was forming where pre-come was seeping through the material. He moaned lowly as Steve arched his back, practically presenting his ass for more pain.

Bucky delivered the fourth blow, shuddering as Steve howled and cried into the bed.

Bucky bit down on his lip, relishing in the sharp burst of pain and the excitement it sparked in him. Steve was perfect like this, crying and begging. Indecision ruling him as he gasped pleas for more. Bucky lined up the crop and let it sail through the air, landing it with a loud crack. Steve jolted forward, the number he was calling out mixed with a desperate moan.

Bucky dropped the crop and littered Steve's backside with kisses and praise. He released the spreader bar and pulled Steve up until he was leaning against Bucky, harsh breaths filling the room. Bucky slid one hand around Steve's waist and grasped the base of his cock tightly before sliding his other hand into his pants and wrapping his fingers around his own cock.

He stroked himself off first, holding off Steve’s release a moment longer, biting into the juncture of his neck and shoulder as he came hard and fast to the wrecked sounds pouring out of Steve.

Steve took a little longer, nearly completely spent from earlier. Bucky wrung the orgasm out of him, Steve's red and oversensitive cock releasing only a few drops of come.

In a haze of afterglow, Bucky managed to turn the plug off and wrap both arms around Steve, holding him tightly as he sobbed. They stayed that way, wrapped up in each other, until Bucky's aftercare instincts kicked in. He removed the blindfold and guided Steve to lay down on the bed, draping a soft blanket over him. He listened to Steve’s content little hums as he collected the various toys and put them away. Snatching up a bottle of lotion, Bucky finally slid into bed behind Steve, ready to spoon him as soon as the lotion had been smoothed over his stinging red ass.

Bucky kept up whispered praise, watching Steve's blissed out face and the smile stretching across it. He deserved some peace, Bucky thought. 


	7. Epilogue

Steve woke tangled in Bucky's long limbs, his warm body pressing against Steve's side. Steve couldn't help the pleased sigh that slipped out. These slow mornings were starting to become a regular thing between them. He may have been encouraging it. Just a bit. He squeezed Bucky tighter, ignoring the irritated groan, and pressed a kiss into his wavy bed hair.

A hint of ache in his shoulders reminded Steve of last night, and he wiggled his ass against the bed, hoping to feel even a slight sting from the beating he took. He discretely stretched out each muscle, from his thighs to his abdomen to his back. It felt good, checking in with each part of his body. And his mind, so calm and quiet. It was a relief to feel so grounded. He soaked in the moment, enjoying being tangled up in Bucky, any worries pushed so far away he couldn't have listed even one. He knew the feeling would slowly seep out of him, but his connection with Bucky would ease its loss. 

"How do you feel?" Bucky rasped, face pressed into the pillow. Steve showered him with a few kisses, making him laugh.

"I feel good, Bucky. Was it good for you too?" He asked, failing to hide his smug knowing tone. Bucky huffed.

"You know it was. Because of you." He replied. "You're perfect. You're just for me." 

Steve felt the same and basked in the warmth of the praise. He let his mind wander over the last few months they had spent together. The first weeks had been rocky, with Steve trying to adjust to Bucky’s lifestyle. The increasingly ridiculous restaurants, the new phone, laptop, exquisitely tailored suits; the unnecessary decadence of it all had pushed Steve to the edge. If it hadn’t been for the calming techniques he’d picked up in therapy he would have snapped and likely lost Bucky.

Instead, when it had come to a head, with Steve breathing deeply and smoothing his palm against his thigh, Bucky had surprised him with a simple admission. _You deserve it all though. I think so anyway._ It had instantly sent his mind back to their first lunch together, Bucky’s other admission, _I find it hard to show people I care about them._ Steve hadn’t given that much thought at the time, presumming it meant he wouldn’t have to deal with the declarations of feelings or emotions he wasn’t comfortable with anyway. 

What Bucky had meant was, outside of the bedroom, his affection was far less verbal and much more material.

They had found a compromise and moved forward, growing closer ever since.

Steve now craved Bucky’s company, messaging him as soon as he was released from a mission or increasingly requesting dinner or drinks without a scene to follow.

Not that he would turn down a scene. The way Bucky made him feel, in the moment, so clear headed but so cared for. Unable to focus on anything but the burning need and satisfaction overwhelming his body. It stole his breath away, every time.

He could see the after effects starting to snake out into the rest of his life as well. Knowing he could go back to the warmth and safety of Bucky's arms gave him the push to start taking risks again. From as innocuous as insisting on being a better friend to Nat, to rolling with the punches when a mission went FUBAR. He couldn't control everything, couldn't even hope to. But he didn't have to drown in self doubt when he didn't make the best call. 

He knew Bucky was starting to fall for him too. He saw the fondness growing in his eyes each time they met, the half hidden smiles, their plans starting to stretch further and further into the future. 

Steve had hoped finding a Dom would help him, ground him, give him space to react to his issues, but finding Bucky, he knew he was lucky. Knew, deep in his heart, they were good together. 

Catching Bucky's eye, watching his smirk transform into a carefree grin, Steve laughed. He wasn't letting Bucky go. They belonged together.


End file.
